Remembrance
by Elixia
Summary: Snape shares a night with Remus that he regrets... Strong language. SLASH. Snape/Remus
1. Regret

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Warning: Male/Male Slash. Severus/Remus. Very strong language and moderate sex. Don't waste your time with this story if you don't like the idea of Lupin and Snape together.  
  
Edited for rather embarrassing typos.  
  
Remembrance  
  
By Reeve M  
  
@--`--,----;--  
  
I didn't mean to sleep with him. God, I feel awful. Fuck his pretty mouth and pretty eyes. He shouldn't have tempted me in the first place - that drunken whore. I was waiting for Lucius before that fucked up boy moped in with his head cast down, timid and miserable. I hate him or at least I thought I hated him. What am I saying? It was his fault. He shouldn't have been so soft and lovely with that pleasant voice and kissable smile.  
  
He's waking. Oh god, he looks so smooth and sensual beneath those sheets. I cannot face my guilt when I know I have desecrated a work of perfection. He was a virgin, he told me. He couldn't have been with those seductive stares and petal lips. That harlot! That monstrous temptation, how dare he! I wasn't one of those when I met him. If ever there were devil, it would be hidden in those, oh, so painfully heartbreaking eyes, which enmeshed me with passion. Oh, but he was so innocent. He pushed me back frightened when I took him into my mouth and trembled when I locked him in my arms. I wish he hadn't cried.  
  
He was upset anyway, complaining about some stupid prank that Black played on him at dinner. He shouldn't be such a sensitive git. I bet he doesn't even care about what he did to me. He shouldn't have blamed me for being 'the only boy who ever listened to him' or 'the only person who showed him respect'. I didn't ask him to speak to me, he just burst out crying like a poor shivering thing that had been caught out in the rain. What else could I do but listen to him? I was like that once, I think.  
  
I can't bear the thought of him behind me, stirring so blissfully in the lemon-gold light. I wish he wasn't so willing. Oh god, why did he have to say 'hello' in that voice or sigh that softly..? He touched me first; tenderly pressing his fingers across my wrist...I can still feel it lingering beneath my skin. So I touched him back and he smiled. I didn't know he'd want more. I-I didn't know that I wanted more. But god, did that touch feel great.  
  
He said that the boys talked about me behind my back. I was naturally curious of course... I mean who wouldn't be? I hated Black and Potter and was amused at what lies they told. I probably shouldn't have got angry thinking back... but why did he have to state it..?  
  
'You're a queer, aren't you?'  
  
What a stupid question. He said it so quietly and the phrasing was so quaint that I was too stunned to answer him back. So I shouted at him and told him to leave.  
  
He began to tremble again and I apologized repeatedly. Stupid child. So I asked him to stay and he wrapped his arms around me gratefully. His breath was so cool and sweet that I moved closer to taste it. When I kissed him an electric shudder ran through the both of us and Remus's eyes lit up gloriously as if I had touched him with something that he had yearned after for years.  
  
'Severus... I...' Why did he have to look so uneasy? I wish he didn't have to keep looking away at the ceiling, the floor, the fire, at anything but me. I could feel the intensity of his breath heighten. I hate it when boys get so fucking nervous! It's contagious and antsy. So I got a little assertive... What's wrong with that? It's not like he didn't want me to. So I took it a step further and touched him...down there I mean. My god, I swear he almost howled, so I grew a little fiercer. It didn't cross my mind to ask how he was, but he was willing. I could tell. He practically moved my hands for me.  
  
'Severus... oh shit... please...'  
  
Please what? I wanted to shriek. What did he want? So I drowned his words with a biting kiss. It must have dented his lips hard because he gave out a little sharp cry of pain. But he tried. He tried to kiss back and so who was I to discourage him?  
  
He looks happy enough, lying there now in all his marble glory. I don't think he has lost his innocence... No... Not with the sweet way he smiles and the lovely noises he makes when he's sleeping. I swear, I couldn't go to sleep with such a marvellous creature twining beside me. When he locked his elegant hands upon my limbs and whimpered with what I could only describe as contentment, I felt safe like a glowing light encapsulated in eternal ecstasy. I never felt this warm before.  
  
'Remus... I...' I couldn't find words which could form any meaning.  
  
'Severus...' Lupin breathed, too polite and startled to speak. At last he gracefully sat upright, yawning like a lion. Dazed and satisfied, he smiled and at once a dire expression of surprise transfigured his face. 'My god... Oh Severus...I-'  
  
He looked ashamed and I lurched inside. 'Shhh... Just sleep, Remus...It's all right...Just sleep. Please.'  
  
Remus shut his eyes with exhaustion or was it... regret?  
  
'I-I, my god, w-w-we...' his face was alight with dread, 'I should leave.'  
  
I couldn't speak. I had nothing to say. In all his supple nakedness, he carefully fetched his robes with his wand, making sure he was covered up and began to dress.  
  
Why does it matter anyway? I thought to myself. I have seen him. Tasted him. Entered him. It was ridiculous to remain so coy. I had a sudden urge to make love him again to destroy the awkwardness, but I kept silent. I was too numbed to speak. He didn't even wish me a good morning before he picked up cloak and left.  
  
@--`--,----;-- 


	2. Humiliation

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Warning: Male/Male Slash. Severus/Remus. Very strong language and moderate sex.   
  
From Lupin's point of view.   
  
__________________  
  
Chapter Two: Humiliation  
  
___________________  
  
He called me a queer.  
  
In front of everybody.  
  
I want to die.  
  
If the heavens had mercy they would lend a time turner and allow me to erase the past. I should have known not to tell Sirius! He must hate queers with the number of girlfriends he's had! Merlin, this evening has been a disaster. It happened at dinner. He just announced it to everyone as if it was some fantastic joke. Now the whole of Gryffindor knows.  
  
As I lie here, tucked beneath my duvet, I whither humiliated. I can't believe I cried in front of my friends. All I can remember is running against a clutter of sounds: plates clinking, snickering boys and my feet bounding down carpet. All I could see was Black laughing and his gleaming eyes alive with glee. He thinks it's hilarious to see me embarrassed. I hate it, I feel like a pest rolling under a magnifying glass.  
  
How could he do this to me?  
  
It's my fault I suppose.  
  
I shouldn't have dared tell him. I knew he'd react wrongly - take it as some sort of trivial tale while not truly listening.  
  
I don't know what I'd do if one of them followed me in here. I'd feel so weak.  
  
Oh no, I can hear footsteps by the door. That's probably James or Peter wondering where I've got to. Please. I just want to hide. Even the candle beside me seems to understand my humiliation. I blow it out, put it out of its misery and wipe away my tears.  
  
Please don't be Black.  
  
Please don't be Black.  
  
Shit.  
  
'Hey Moony. Why did you run away?'  
  
I pretended to be asleep. If he didn't know I was conscious, I wouldn't have to talk.  
  
'You aren't mad at me are you..?'  
  
I let out a small snore and swivelled onto my left arm making no indication that I had heard him. I'm asleep. I'm asleep. I'm asleep.  
  
'Moony. I can tell when you're trying to avoid me.'  
  
I stirred, and curled under the sheets of my thick cover. I loved my bed more than anything; it was safe and warm and never betrayed me.  
  
'Later Pads.' I moaned, 'I'm trying to sleep.'  
  
'I don't know what you're getting so worked up about! It was only a joke!'  
  
I could feel the anger crawl up my wrists and forearms.   
  
"Please. just leave me. You don't understand."  
  
Sirius's boots thumped on the ground softly once he removed them and let out a small exasperated sigh. I heard his cloak drop to the floor as he plodded his way to the mahogany desk and took out, what I could only guess, was the Marauders map. I felt a twinge of desire to aid with its production. After all, I did come up with the idea. Yet I would refuse to give in.  
  
'You gonna help with this, or not?'  
  
'I'm not up to it tonight, Pads. Tomorrow.'  
  
I peeped ever so slightly from beneath my covers and blinked. Sirius had turned to me and was looking quite serious. His endearing dark eyes looked at me imploringly, expecting me to answer a silent question that was blatantly obvious. This was one problem he'd have to figure out for himself. And yet, I feel guilty. He didn't mean any harm did he..? What difference did it make? All my life I have been considered the weak one, the boy who is too ill and frail to fend for himself, a child, helpless. Sirius thought I was no better. He thinks it's pleasurable to embarrass the weak. I nuzzled into the soft pillows and moaned. Maybe I was.  
  
'Pads..? You don't hate me, do you?' I said after a purged silence.  
  
Sirius glanced up from his parchment preoccupied and said, 'No.'  
  
'Then why did you tell everyone that I was...you know...'  
  
'Well aren't you?'  
  
I could have throttled him. Yes, I was. I had told him in confidence. Me, willing to share something about myself without heaving it on my back for years on end. Good god, what have I done to him to deserve this? It was no extraordinary secret that when boys called each other queer, it was meant as an insult, not as some glorious acceptance speech. Queer: it was a dirty, shameless word.   
  
'That's not the point. I told you because I trusted you...and you...Never mind.' There was no use in talking to him when he was so blatantly unable to comprehend.  
  
'You seemed so upset when you told me; I wanted to prove to you that it didn't matter, not to Prongs, Wormtail, Lily or anybody...' I could feel the guilt-heat run up the back of his neck as he stiffened. Only the hasty scratching of a quill on parchment could be heard.   
  
Liar! It does matter. And you knew it did.  
  
I remember the cold stare he gave Snape when he passed by him a couple of months ago, calling him a 'prissy boy' and a 'cock-sucker'. I was ashamed. More than anything, I knew what it was like to feel scrutinized and hated and thought of as unnatural. And yet, there he was, just taking it all. I think Sirius must have known the truth from that exact moment I looked at Snape. It was a stupid look neither filled with hatred or sympathy but curiosity. Snape didn't even look up; he just kept marching on miserably ahead, suspending his usual wit-fest of sarcastic comments. I think Sirius hurt him that day. Really hurt him. No longer did it matter if he called him 'greasy haired git' or a 'slime-bludger' for he had cut a chord in Snape's soul, whatever that was, and hurt him bad. Truth hurt more than abuse.  
  
Sirius kept on trying to give me warning signs the day after. He simply didn't trust me. I didn't fancy him or anything but he looked at me as I did. I suppose that's what you get for being the most chased after boy in our year. He was handsome in a roguish sort of way with his savage eyes and wayward smile. I would be paranoid too if I looked that great.  
  
I lay huddled in bed, hours passing before either of us said a word to each other. Suddenly the sounds of smashing, jeers and drunkenness came pillaging through the warm, oak fired dorm. I grew awash with terror and fear. Who were they? The anger with which Sirius flung his chair down was what I could only describe as terrifying. Realising that I wasn't dreaming, I hurtled from my bed and muttered a small, calming charm. In my hastiness, it didn't work and I erupted from my curtained haven with shock. It was James and Peter, laughing manically. They were with Lily, who was standing awkwardly by the fire, her sleeves rolled up and crossed before her waist with an expression of deep annoyance.  
  
'It's not that funny...He might be trying to sleep. You're so immature, I don't know why I came back with you!'  
  
When they saw me, they stopped, paralysed, and then burst into fits of laughter. Sirius who was sober, jetted me a look of apology and urged me with his eyes to shut my ears and go to bed. Like a child, I growled to myself, they expected me to behave like a child.  
  
'Look who's here!' coughed an inebriated James gleefully. His eyes weren't focused; in fact, I couldn't tell what he was looking at: my bed, my disheveled robes or my baffled expression. But it was joyful, merry look, which was fueled with an undercurrent of hostility.  
  
'It's the fairy boy! And doesn't he look like one? Y-know Lily. I really should've known before. He ain't had a girlfriend or anything. I thought he just had the plague, but now I know better.'  
  
'Your drunk, James. Stop it. You don't know what you're saying.' Sirius said firmly, avoiding my eyes.  
  
'Snape would be perfect for him!' Pettigrew snickered, putting his pudgy fist to his mouth craftily. 'After all, he is the King of Pricks.'  
  
As a pack of wolves, howling in their own hilarity, James and Peter collapsed to ground in fits of giggles. I just stood shocked, pale and trembling with the approaching of tears. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.  
  
But it was too late.  
  
When the first tear fell, drop after drop followed. I had never seen any of them like that before. Well...yes. sometimes. But that was always about other people. I must have been shivering, because Lily threw me Sirius' cloak and gently said, 'Don't take any notice, Remus. They don't mean it.'  
  
'Awww...look the little Nancy boy is crying now. I think he needs a big macho-man to cuddle up to.'  
  
'Stop it!' Sirius ordered firmly.  
  
'I think he wants you, Sirius. Look at the way he stares at you with those large pleading eyes. You want him don't you Moony. Go on. Give your name justice, bend down, yank up those robes and we'll all have a poke.'  
  
Lily at this point jolted up angrily and stamped her foot down fiercely. 'You won't speak to him like that! James! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?'  
  
'Ohhh....Lily...Don't get jealous. Real men like me don't need to deal with trash like that.'   
  
At this, he made towards her, stumbling to his feet. He swayed like a wooden man unable to stand and tried to kiss her. She writhed in repulsion and thrust him away.   
  
'Get lost, Potter! You're so foul...I can't believe you!'  
  
He stumbled and fell onto the floor, sprawled like a puppet with no Master.  
  
Blank.  
  
Stop.  
  
Help.  
  
Madness whirled around me like a hot hell. James was buckled on the ground coughing in spurts of mirthless laughter. Peter was grinning crazily, high on amusement. Lily was furious, indignant, and disgusted by her own presence in the room. Sirius was blank faced, remorseful and sombre, fiddling with his quill furiously. The heady brew of schoolboy excitement, raw humiliation and ruthless mocking made the walls seem to cave in and I rushed to the door at top speed. I bounded towards the Gryffindor Common room refusing to look back. I banged the huge door shut and at once was hit by a strong silence.  
  
What if one of them tried to come after me?  
  
I would have to find a place that they wouldn't look.  
  
Writhing with humiliation, I brushed my warm tears away with my shoddy robe sleeve and, being extremely quiet, headed out of the Gryffindor Common room, into the silent hallway. The Fat Lady was asleep and so, craftily, with my heart exploding in my chest, I stalked down it, looking for a place that wouldn't judge me for who I was.  
  
@--`--,----;--  
  
  
  
Continued from Lupin's point of view. 


	3. Not a Child

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
I'm sorry it took me such a long time to update. I don't know what happened. I think I must have been kidnapped by aliens and taken to the land of "writer's block". I can now get back to deflowering poor Lupin. Re-reading through my past chapters I cannot believe the number of grammar mistakes I have made. I have fixed them to a much neater coherence. Sorry if you have been waiting.  
  
Thanks for all the reviews, they are appreciated.  
  
Warnings: SLASH. This chapter contains a scene of moderate sex. Please do not read further or skip this chapter if that offends you. You have been warned. Some might consider it a strong R.  
  
______________  
  
Chapter 3: Not a Child  
  
________________  
  
I feel different.  
  
My senses are numbed. My limbs are aching and with each breath I take I shudder with exhilaration. I tingle from the tips of my toes to the ends of my fingers. My skin is wild with a sensation I didn't even know existed, and yet, I feel empty and ashamed. I shouldn't have done it.  
  
Oh Merlin, Severus... When I woke up this morning in sheets that weren't my own: a chrysalis, a home, and a delirious bliss that didn't belong to me...I wanted to die. And there he was, sitting upright, staring at me as if I was a...mistake.  
  
I regret leaving my dorm room. The air was cold, the halls empty and everything was a deathly hush. The only time I had ever felt as frightened was the first time I turned into a werewolf. The dread of waiting for the full moon to rise was beyond rational anxiety. I didn't think moonlight could taste of anything, but it tasted icy. When it froze my senses and opened my flesh and blood with its wolfish brutality, I remember being conscious every moment.  
  
Wading through the dark was difficult when you didn't want to get caught. In all the five years that I had been here, I still didn't know how to maneuver myself around. This was why I suggested a map making project and Sirius immediately took it up as a chance to spark into reality. I followed the shadows, led by random moving staircases and meandering through the corridors. I cursed myself for leaving my wand by my bedside table and tightened my cloak around me. A light bobbed in the distance. It looked like it came from a wand and a boy with a soft step bounded in my direction.   
  
"Well, who are you?" he sneered, looking me up and down with superior distaste. He had grey, stony eyes that shone blade silver in the white glare.   
  
I became conscious of my tousled hair, my oversized cloak and my tear filled eyes. I shook my head and straightened my posture. When he saw I had been crying, he quickly melted his expression into a smug, cattish smile. It was Lucius Malfoy, a seventh year, who kept his House in terror most of the time. He usually kept himself to his own circle of friends and did little to trouble the Gryffindors. Yet nonetheless, he was certainly intimidating.  
  
"What's wrong?" he purred thickly, using his free hand to lift my face up to his. I had never felt so small and young. Despite only being two years older than me, he radiated an aura of maturity and authority. I let the touch shudder through my veins and felt a twinge of shame tug at my heart.   
  
"I was just taking a walk... I felt a bit ill, so I went in search of... the kitchens. I was hungry." I replied feebly.  
  
My head was whirling with nausea, my throat was drunk with despair and my fingers trembled. I wondered if he could hear the powerful thudding of my heart and feel the heat of shame crawl up the back of my neck. He gazed at me intensely, his eyes dancing like a serpent and his fingers stroking the underside of my chin.   
  
"Did you realise you were in the Slytherin Quarters? A few more metres and you would have found yourself outside the Slytherin Common Room."  
  
"I-I had no intention of intruding.... I just couldn't find my way."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
I could feel his eyes penetrate the back of my spine and shamefully I looked down to my shoes and shuffled my feet nervously.  
  
"You're part of Black and Potter's Gryffindor Gang, aren't you? I've seen you around. I heard what happened to you in the Great Hall. Everyone knows. You're the first Gryffindor to admit your preferences. Gryffindor has always been an over conventional, macho house...Foolish really... You show true bravery, Remus Lupin."  
  
I smiled dryly but a great flush of humiliation overwhelmed me and I bit the inside of my lip to keep a flurry of anger, sorrow and embarrassment bursting out.  
  
"Those holier-than-thou friends of yours are giving you a hard time? Well I'll let you into a little secret... You know that Black of yours? Sirius... Well, he once made a move on Severus in his third year. When he didn't return his affections, he grew heated and angry. He punched the boy right in the face and stormed off sulking! Severus did nothing of course, he took anything those days. As far as I know, they've hated each other ever since."  
  
I was speechless. My mind was blinded with disbelief and fury. Sirius? He wanted Snape?  
  
"He's a bloody hypocrite, that Black. James knew of course but both kept it from you..." he said with a hint of sorrow in his voice, "Speaking of the Devil, Severus that is, I am meant to be meeting with him in the fifth year dorm room. You'll find it empty of course... All Slytherins leave when...two people demand...privacy."  
  
I pretended to understand and nodded.  
  
"Now, if you wish to spend one night away from that Gryffindor Hell, I'm sure Severus will be more than grateful than to let you share the room for the night. Tell him I allowed it, he does little to dispute me. I, on the other hand, must leave for quite another reason. Tell him your tale, talk to him. He has had his great number of disappointments... Especially concerning his victimisation from that mutt, Black. He's not half as nasty as people would like you to believe. Go. If you cross a Slytherin in the Slytherin Common Room, as no doubt some will be camping there, pay no attention and tell them I sent you."  
  
I nodded firmly. My skin tingled with exhilaration.  
  
"Thank you." I nodded gratefully.   
  
"The password's 'Serpentsortia'".   
  
@--`--,----;--  
  
I made my way to the dorm room easily. I opened the door silently and met a boy with his back turned to me.   
  
'Hello.' I muttered politely. He froze, and pretended to ignore me. It was easy to sense the back of his neck constrict and I froze with apprehension. I had the sudden urge to escape. At last, with a strange sardonic leer, he greeted me and asked me who I was waiting for. I kept silent and muttered a few apologies. Gripping the back of a satin, Edwardian arm chair, I told him that Lucius sent me.  
  
He looked me over warily, paled, then turned back to his desk and gazed out of the window. He was wearing his night gown, a beautiful robe made of green silk and trimmed with silver. I had the urge to touch it. It looked so smooth and soft...  
  
He looked almost attractive beneath the candlelight.   
  
"He told me that he can't meet you tonight and told me that I could probably stay here for the night."   
  
"Why? What's wrong with the god-perfect, Gryffindors?" he sneered sarcastically.   
  
He packed up his dusty book and placed it on a large, mahogany bookshelf that was filled with hundreds of volumes. I wondered with awe whether that was his personal collection. He was the bookish sort who was apt for teasing but from what I knew of him, he was by no means vulnerable. He, Sirius and James got into a violent fight at least once a week. The idea of Sirius liking him was an impossible feat to believe. Sirius exploited the fact that he was queer. He teased him because he had a reputation, because he was a slut, because he was nothing but a foul mouthed, dirty haired, cock sucker who screamed for attention by fucking the Gods of Slytherin to feel some worth. I believed him.   
  
Yet now I wondered why he didn't just reveal Sirius for who he was and humiliate him a thousand times over by telling them he had tried to kiss him. Then I realised all Sirius would have to do was smile and laugh and deny it. No one would believe that the handsome, exuberant golden boy of Gryffindor would reduce himself to the Slytherin boy. He was ugly, unpopular and bitter. He stood no chance.   
  
I stayed silent and shivered a little. He turned, perched on his desk, folded his arms and stared at me with inquisitive eyes.   
  
My fingers were shaking very gently and I ventured to ask, "You're a queer, aren't you?"   
  
Even now the question seemed ridiculously stupid and awkward.   
  
"I heard what happened at dinner. No doubt your little expedition here is due to your dunderhead friends who find you charmingly vile. Especially Black..." he muttered, a dark storm brewing in his expression. He still didn't answer my question.   
  
I nodded rigidly. He always did know how one felt just by scanning their appearance. There was no point in denying anything.  
  
"Lucius said," I begun apprehensively, "...said that you'd understand me. Out of anyone, you'd understand the best, wouldn't you?"   
  
I scratched the satin fabric and picked at a hole that had formed previously.   
  
"What is it that you want me to understand?" he asked evenly and expressionlessly.   
  
There was little resentment in his eyes and there was a tranquil look in his face. Maybe he didn't hate me as much as I thought and I didn't hate him either, I had decided vehemently. I ventured deeper into the room and paced into the centre of it, thrusting my hands into my pockets and staring up to the ceiling. I became flustered and before I could scorn myself for crying, a tear fled down my cheek and I masked my face in my hands with shame.   
  
"It's just so frustrating!" I burst out passionately. "I feel as if they all laugh at me! That I am only something to humour and talk to when they need someone to relax their boredom! I'm not half as close to James as Sirius is and Peter is always too busy trying to get their attention. It's as if I don't fit in. When they first became my friends, I thought they liked me and it was great. Yet recently...Things have just been getting so empty...I feel as if they don't care about me and they only appreciate me when they want to! I am just a strange phenomenon, a piece of entertainment, nothing substantial as I hoped friendship would be...Maybe I am just being foolish and ungrateful! And now, now they know that I...I...you know, that I like boys. Now they'll never like me! Sirius doesn't seem to understand anything and James just laughs at everything. I know I'm not as good as them when it comes to schoolwork or being sociable or charming teachers, but I feel so small and inadequate next to them!"  
  
Severus's eyes glittered, half out of amusement and contemplation. My head was pounding, my skin burning with fury and my blood was teeming with a sensation that I hadn't felt for ages.   
  
"I hate it! I hate it all! I know I should be grateful, I should be more grateful than anyone else! Yet I can't take this frustration! They never show me any respect. They treat me like a child..." I admitted with a sob of defeat in my tone.   
  
Severus looked at me curiously and I breathed a sigh of relief. I paced around the room and stopped where Severus was standing and touched his hand gently.   
  
"I understand," he replied.  
  
"Thank you. I could never have told that to any of them! They'd kill me if they knew I'd told you the way I felt." I said, then added, "Please don't tell anybody."  
  
I began to laugh quietly. I shouldn't have done it; I thought angrily to myself, I shouldn't have told him my true feelings. He was a Slytherin and an enemy after all. Why should I trust a near stranger?  
  
He leaned over me and put his arms around me warmly. I rested my head on the breast of his silk robe and ran my cheek against it sadly, slipping my arms round him gently.   
  
"You're the only one who's showed me respect..." I whispered, in a mild state of bliss.   
  
Severus sighed and lifted up my chin to face him. Before I knew it, he bent down and kissed me. I jolted back but not out of horror but out of surprise and exhilaration.   
  
"I shouldn't have..." he began apologetically.  
  
I shook my head, smiled up at him and welcomed his lips upon mine, received his warm tongue in my mouth and clumsily attempted to retaliate. He swept his long fingers through my hair and heightened the intensity. I was stunned into a state of delight and apprehension. I had barely done that before and my heart raced. His was beating harder. I tightened my grip upon his waist and he grabbed mine and pushed me passionately against him. I was shocked at his arousal and ashamed of my own. Why was he so hard? I savoured it rubbing against mine and my world was spinning. When he began to touch me, Merlin did I almost howl.   
  
"Tell me to stop..." he breathed, "Just tell me to stop, or else I'll..."  
  
"No...Never...Don't."   
  
He slipped downwards, unbuttoning my robes while I threw off my cloak. I chuckled as he fumbled down my clothes and shed them as he pleased. When his mouth was on me, I started back, frightened at the odd, new sensation. It was was warm and wet, but gratifying. I hungered for more and urged Severus to continue. As he sucked me I burned and ached and yearned. I was enveloped in an ocean of intense pleasure. No longer was I in a stranger's world but I was burning in a furnace of liberation and lust. I had no idea it felt so good. I had fantasised about this for years, yet thoughts were no substitute for experience. I moaned, groaned, panted as his lips enclosed me. I threw my head back murmuring his name over and over again desperately as if I needed this to live, to survive, to prove myself. Yet I was always gentle. I wanted to thrust hard but controlled my animal lusts with difficulty; I ran my fingers through his hair softly, caressed him, and savoured every shiver and shudder through my spine. This was heavenly and knowing this pleasure so fully, so young, so enduring. I shut my eyes and dreamed of the wild place, shedding myself of stress, despair and memory. I was foolish. I could feel myself coming, my muscles constricting, my grip tightening on his scalp.  
  
I should have left it there. Oh! If I had only come then and fell limp and supine. Yet I wanted him inside me. I wanted to prove that I could take it like the rest of the boys my age. I wanted to lose my virginity. I asked him to take me. Before I knew it, we were on each other. I clawed at his robes, touching as much hot flesh as I could get my hands on. I lay on my back, my legs on his shoulders, my thighs opened wide. A pillow supported the arch of my back, my skin aflame. I couldn't think, blinded with urgency and desperation.  
  
As he plied me urgently with his fingers, quickly applied lubrication, I grew with triumph and anticipation. I welcomed him into me. I winced. I jolted with shock and mild pain stripped the dream luxury within me and once again I was in a room, laying on rough cotton sheets, a boy, a practical stranger, thrusting into me passionately. He was over me, suffocating me, his hands clamped over me, caressing me, folding me into his arms, groaning like an animal, his sweat running down his forehead. I screamed, unpleasantly, for Severus stopped, froze, all movement ceased and he withdrew and turned away ashamed.   
  
"Please... Please... Don't stop," I half pleaded out of pity. "You can't leave me like this..."  
  
I hurt him. His pride was wounded. I must have been crying since my face was wet and my vision was blurred.   
  
'Don't be cruel..." I urged, "Don't do this to me... Just a little more..."  
  
I lay helpless, shameless, flustered wishing I hadn't cried in pain. Severus sighed, cursed himself, then turned back to face me with pity. My whole body was trembling, my arousal urgent and humiliating.   
  
"Please..." I moaned. "I want your mouth on me..."  
  
It didn't take long for me to spill into his throat. I never had an orgasm so hard before and I was shocked at its force. I smiled and sighed with liberation, thanking Severus repeatedly. I lay back on the sheets, completely exhausted and felt Severus's eyes feast on me. I bade him to lie on me and soon we were embracing, touching and fiddling each other's hair. I touched his arousal gently and he came quietly and softly in my hands, hiding his face in the crook of my shoulder.  
  
'Thank you..."  
  
We relaxed into a loose embrace onto the sheets, dampened with sweat. I was contented in the heaviness of his skin, his soft breathing, his limp ease... I combed the dark strands of hair from his face and kissed his lips playfully. There was despair in his eyes that looked upon me as something horrific, mutilated and wronged. I started back, but he kissed me with such violence, brutality and lust that he plucked all feeling from my lips. I shot back frightened and buried my face in the pillow.   
  
@--`--,----;--  
  
I washed twice this morning and crept back into the Gryffindor Dorm Room before Sirius, James and Peter could wake up. James and Peter would be hungover and Sirius slept in late anyway, especially on Saturdays. My body ached and I had a limp which frightened me. Did something go wrong? Sex, I had believed, would never be painful. I nibbled on a blueberry muffin that I had gained from the kitchens. The house elves offered me a whole feast, they said I looked wan and frightened, and so I took the whole basket of comfort foods that they bestowed upon me. I would be spending the whole day in bed. I wondered what Severus was doing and thinking. He hates me most probably and telling Lucius what a fool I made of myself.   
  
I gazed at Sirius, all sprawled and careless. His eyes flickered beneath his eyelids and his breathing was heavy. Peter and James would probably wake up cotton headed and woolly, barely remembering last night's incident. No doubt they would apologise half-heartedly suppressing their bafflement and concealing their disgust. That left only Sirius. I didn't care how he'd react, he was stubborn and arrogant and a hypocrite. Yet I could not bring my heart to hate him. It no longer mattered that he humiliated me in front of everybody. Nothing did. I had gone beyond what was decent. I had spent my virginity on a practical stranger in a state of careless agitation. I was a fool and nothing could change that.   
  
@--`--,----;--  
  
Continued... 


	4. Force and Rage

Remembrance: Force and Rage  
  
Chapter Four  
  
_________  
  
Bastards, fools and dunderheads! Curse them all to hell! I can hear their whispers around me as I walk down the halls. I can feel their stares crawl after me like spiders. They look at me as if I'm cheap, a slut, an animal. Word spreads fast in Slytherin house; Lucius let slip of my night with Remus in the Great Hall, as easy as that, a small, silvery little spiteful remark enough to damage everything. For every tiny effort I tried to gain acceptance, to being liked and tolerated, from doing the older boys' homework, teaching them the dark arts or giving them my class notes, was all undone. Now no one speaks to me unless it's to slip me some sharp, disgusted remark...  
  
'Eradico!' I cry as I glare at the scowling portrait to let me into Slytherin Common Room.  
  
It's a dark, detached place with trodden, threadbare rugs that have been deliberately torn. Despite its dignified grandness there is very little sense of community or happiness. I pull the collar of my cloak higher so that no one can see my face, but I am too late. Someone spots me.   
  
'Oh look...' Bellatrix cooed smarmily, 'If it isn't the Gryffindor whore...'   
  
Regulus was lounging with his feline grace before the fire, reading a book. He looked up at me indifferently and said in a thoroughly bored voice,   
  
'Bella...I can understand him wanting to have a pretty Gryffindor...but having hair that greasy is unforgivable. Really, Severus, I mean it in the nicest possible way, but look at my hair. It's all shiny and neat. Yours is positively vile...'   
  
'Fuck off,' I murmured beneath my breath, as I made my way for the fifth year Slytherin dorm room.  
  
Following my usual routine, setting my books upon the table, taking off my boots and crawling underneath my sheets, belly down, I can finally feel relieved that I am alone. At times I try to block out my thoughts but at other times I let them slide into me. I can't stop thinking about him. Him. Remus Lupin. What has he done to me? I want to kill him. He makes me shudder; he makes me angry; how could he do this to me? How could he degrade me with his boyish hips and fluttery nervousness...?   
  
Yet he looks pale and worn, more so than before. Did I do that to him? Potter and Black as far as I know are doing nothing more than trying to cover up the whole thing as if it never happened. That was the difference between Slytherins and Gryffindors; even though they were insensitive and gregarious, they would always look out for each other. Slytherin just looked unified when it was falling apart.  
  
I was too lost in my thoughts to notice the knock on the door or see the student who had just entered. I turned round when I realised and felt my heart lurch.   
  
"Severus..." a sleek, tall boy murmured curiously, "It is not your usual style to ignore me..."  
  
He shut the door with a swift click and murmured a locking charm. I grited my teeth with defiance and took in a deep breath. Lucius made towards my bed and sat on the chair beside me.   
  
'I-' I cannot get the words out. I had been ignoring him, and anyone who snubbed Lucius was as good as marking him out as their enemy. He was known for using the dark arts on those he detested. It was even rumoured that he practiced the Cruciatus curse and knew Imperio. No one would believe it with his good family and upbringing.   
  
He fiddles with the collar of his robe. I know what's coming up next. I brace myself for it every week. Slowly, inch by inch, undoes his robes, revealing his flawless, pale skin. I feel my heart constrict and the voice choke in my throat. It would feel adulterous to make love to him. His clothes slip down to his feet and in his natural form, he looks perfect. As he stands before me naked, his fingers wrapped round his arousal waiting for my tongue to wet him, I lick my lips. One half of me is screaming to taste him, to embark on his body and make the most proud, beautiful boy in our House scream and writhe below me, while the other is thinking of Remus.   
  
Yet Lucius is waiting, demanding for me to serve and with that charming, golden smile he gave his order.  
  
"Suck."  
  
I did as I was bid.   
  
___  
  
There are bruises lining my body and I feel broken. I won't be able to move from this bed for hours. I missed dinner already and Lucius left long before. I cannot be bothered to get dressed. The rough fabric of my robes would feel wrong; I try to relax, to read a book but I still find myself shivering. He hurt me. The fucking bastard hurt me, and then tried to justify himself with love. I cannot bear the degradation he submitted me to that afternoon. Yet I had never seen him so angry, so changeable and forceful. There's blood on the sheets. Some of it his, most of it mine. I can take it though. I always do. Just shut your eyes and pretend to enjoy it...   
  
___  
  
Everyone's asleep and as usual, I'm awake. I can't sleep and I am hungry. All I want is to crawl to the Prefects Bathroom and wash myself. I was used to sneaking out at night and knew that I was quiet enough not to wake anyone. I reach for my warmest robes and drape them on.   
  
It's cold as I walk down the hallways. My whole body burns when I walk. I would have to make a potion tomorrow to heal me. I wouldn't risk Pomfrey finding out what was a really wrong with me...Yet among the stony walls and rugged floor; I cannot help but feel a little frightened. I had done this a million times! Why should I feel so shaken!   
  
"Severus..."  
  
I turn round to see if anyone's there. My hand is firmly twisted round the end of my wand. I couldn't risk anyone see me. I deliberate that it was the wind outside. Through the shivers and chills of midnight air, I wonder how long it will take me to reach the bathroom. I was very glad when I found out I was a prefect; yet it did me no good in practice. One couldn't persecute their own house and no one else would listen to me. The bathroom was the only thing I liked about my gained privileges. Otherwise, I had given up all hope of executing my other duties. I turned a corner glad to discover I was only feet away from my destination.   
  
Yet I still felt the strange sensation of being followed. So I hurried my pace.   
  
"Snivellus..." the voice came again and lunging for my wand, confused as to which direction the voice was coming from, I began to tremble.   
  
"Expelliarmus!"   
  
The order came immediately and my wand flew metres away from me. I was in too much pain to reach for it. To my shock, the source of the torments had been closer than I anticipated and lunging for my throat was Sirius Black revealing himself from beneath an invisibility cloak. I was shoved hard against the wall, feeling my muscles ache at the force. There were at least two figures there making for me and under the fierce grip of Black, I grew weak and powerless. You have me again, you fucking bastard. You have me again.   
  
"You fucked Remus, didn't you?" He snarled in a fierce whisper.  
  
"He was asking for it!" I spat back.   
  
"Liar! Remus wouldn't do that to us! He wouldn't degrade himself to such filth like you..."  
  
"Oh but you would, wouldn't you..?" I said with a small, sardonic grin remembering when he tried to kiss me in our third year.  
  
A blow came to my stomach. I was feeling weak already and in one strike I fell to the ground. With the wind kicked out of me I fell limp and helpless. Another fierce kick came to below my ribs and another harder than before.  
  
Bang.  
  
Bang.  
  
Bang.  
  
White stars dazzled my vision and all I could feel was the burning of my ribs and a stream of wet, warm blood sliding down my face. Something gave a sickening crack but the kicks and punches still came. There were both of them now. Potter and Black. Each blow was harder than the next...Everything was disorientating and blurred, suddenly I felt weightless like I was being crushed under the waves of the ocean...   
  
"If you dare come near Remus again, we'll kill you...Understand? We'll fucking murder you..."  
  
I understood...but everything was loosening... my whole world was fading away...  
  
____   
  
To be continued...  
  
I am extremely sorry that I haven't updated in ages. I swear the next chapter will come sooner. I have already written half of it and I have plotted the whole thing through now... 


	5. Promises

Disclaimer's Notice: Harry Potter is not mine.   
  
Author's Note: Erg, I'm extremely sorry for not updating in a long time. It's my new years resolution to only write one story at a time and this one is first on my list. I'm really sorry. Well here's the next, extremely belated, chapter...   
  
Chapter Five: Promises  
  
From Remus's POV...   
  
_______________________  
  
He still hasn't regained consciousness. He looks almost dead in his deep sleep. The bruises have healed a little, yet I can still see the misty pinks upon the mound of his top cheek. His eyelids are a soft purple, his serene lips straight and expressionless. There is no anger, no self-contempt, no frustration, no hurt, no hatred, no guilt nor disgust in the contours of that young face. He finally looks his age, if not younger, in his element and no longer suffering. Sometimes I wish I could bend down and kiss him, feel his warmth, his tenderness, just as I did the night I gave myself to him. How can anyone harm him when he looks so vulnerable? His whole body seems to have shrunk, there's no pride in him, no intensity, just a sweet surrender to unconsciousness. I wonder where his mind is now, what he's thinking or whether he's even dreaming. For he doesn't look like he's in this world.   
  
I will never forget the moment I found Severus, just lying there outside of the Prefect's bathroom. Sirius and James stalked in with smug grins on their faces and blood on their knuckles. They usually got into fights, sometimes with each other, that was no surprise, but it was the sick, evil glint in their eyes that made me shiver, that made me realise there was something more to this than another brawl.  
  
"We took care of him for you, Remus." When James spoke those words a cold dread slid through me. I swallowed; there was no time to be angry or contemptuous.   
  
"Where?"  
  
Sirius barked with laughter, that cocky pride in his grin, the blood specked on his white shirt cuff. I felt sick.   
  
"Where what, Moony?"  
  
"Where is he?" I remember the tremble in my voice, the involuntarily shaking, the fury I knew must be contained.   
  
James was folding up the invisibility cloak in a civilised fashion; I could smell the thrill of excitement on him, electric, like a burn, not a single trace of guilt in his mind. Surely it couldn't have been that bad; yet there was the blood, the blood that looked more than just a scratch, more than just a little teasing and pushing about. They had hurt him.   
  
"Well...let's just say..." James said leanly, with a yawn in his voice, "...he needs a greater wash up now than he did before..."  
  
The bathroom, he was a prefect wasn't he? They were looking at me with a hideous satisfaction; maybe they did hate me, maybe they were disgusted at me because I was queer. Things would never be the same again. Those leers would never leave their faces.  
  
"I'd leave him there to rot if I were you, Moony. Filth like him deserves it."  
  
You mean -filth like me- I thought angrily. I fled out of the dorm room desperate to find Severus and save him from whatever damage they had done.  
  
When I rushed down to the Prefect's Bathroom, taking a few wrong turnings and cursing myself at my inability to navigate myself, all I could think of was -it's my fault, it's my fault-. There he was: hunched by the door, his head leaning loosely against the edge. He wore the same expression then as he does now as I sit here by his side at Pomfrey's sweeping a few loose strands from his face. There was blood trickling from the left corner of his mouth and his nose was bloodied badly; his whole face was beaten, the tenderness of bruising awakening from him. Everything was incongruous to that strange, peaceful expression on his face, as if he was happy for it to have all stopped.   
  
I levitated him to Pomfrey's as fast as I could, frightened to touch even a part of him. He seemed so helpless, like I'd never seen him before, so unguarded, so harmless even. He was my age; he wasn't stronger than I was, nor better equipped than me, he was no more deserving of being beaten and punished than I was, and yet here he was, bruised and bleeding, because I was stupid enough to ask his help.   
  
When Pomfrey saw him, she looked unsurprised but disappointed nonetheless.   
  
"Not that Snape boy again..." she sighed with concern and exasperation in her voice." Usher him in, usher him in..."  
  
She told me to lay him on the bed. Awkwardly I did so and I felt tears prick the front of my eyes.   
  
"What are you doing out so late? Do you know who did this?"   
  
Sirius and James, Sirius and James my mind seemed to chant but my voice faltered and said instead, "I don't know, miss. I- I thought I heard something and well, I did. H-he was just there... I didn't really have time to think who it was... He's not exactly...the most popular boy in the school."  
  
"Poor, poor child... Children can be terrible sometimes." she tutted, "I thought all this had stopped a long time ago."  
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Oh, it's common knowledge that he was taunted in his first and second year. He was a rather weak boy back then, much weaker than the last time he came in here. I used to clean up all his wounds and cuts and dry up his tears up and tell him that if he was good none of this would happen to him...He never was a troublesome child though." As Pomfrey reminisced, the guilt and sadness welled in me further.   
  
Severus was on his back on the narrow bed, his body so limp it was as if no life had ever possessed him.   
  
"When will he get better?"  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't say it'd take that long... I can heal his wounds and ease his pain, but some illnesses depend on whether the sufferer is willing to get better. Some wounds are too deep to heal."  
  
"Is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
"You can help by getting yourself to bed, Mr. Lupin and leaving the rest up to me. But if you insist, you can help me take his robes off. Complicated these things are."  
  
"All right..."  
  
Awkwardly, I undid the snake-skin belt of his robes and awkwardly began to undo the button on his robes. I could see why Pomfrey asked me to do the task; being a boy, she probably thought I'd feel less awkward. His skin is so thin, so pale and everywhere I could see the precursor of bruising. The familiarity of his slightly protruding ribcage, the lean, long torso, the narrow hips was almost a relief to me. The contrast between the markings of the bruising and sickly smoothness of his skin was horrifying.   
  
"Merlin, they're all over him..." I whispered.   
  
Pomfrey heard me, turned and tutted. "Oh, they really did a thorough job of it..."  
  
I could feel my skin burn; my best friends did this. They laughed at him, they laughed at me. Yet I couldn't besmirch them, I couldn't dob them in... They were the only people who liked me. Without them I'd be alone.   
  
"Can I do anything else?"   
  
"No, Mr. Lupin. I'm half in mind to tell someone that you're out this late, but I'm glad you brought him to me. Good night."  
  
I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to return to my dorm room where Sirius and James would be.   
  
"Good night." And I left.  
  
~  
  
His breath is stifled, straining out of his throat, a small frown on his forehead and a twitch of those lips. Finally, he's waking, life is stirring within him. I feel a flutter of excitement. I've had to be careful in my visits to him, making sure that Sirius and James are in Quidditch Practice. I can't suppress a smile.  
  
"Severus? Severus?" I whisper, stroking his left temple, feeling him turn in my direction and those gorgeous dark eyes open and look at me.   
  
A fleeting moment of bliss crosses his face, but it only lasts for seconds before it sinks into a frown, a protective distaste.   
  
"You're awake..."  
  
"Re- Lupin..." he swallows bitterly, his eyes shadowed with a self-contempt, with weakness, with bitterness.   
  
"I brought you some chocolate frogs..."  
  
"Stay away from me..." every word is strained. He turns away from me, he shields his face with his arm, he winces as he drags his sheet over him shamefully. He doesn't even glance at the chocolate frogs although I can feel he's tempted.   
  
"Severus...You're better..."  
  
"Go away!" His voice is more forceful and harsh. I'm glad Pomfrey's in the next room. "I don't want to be better! I want to get away from here! I want to get away from you!"  
  
I want to hold him, soothe his anger and his despair, I want to kiss his temples and tell him he's fine, that I want to protect him. He's shivering and hurting.   
  
"I know it's my fault, but I had no idea they were after you…"  
  
"Stay away from me…Please…" There's so much anguish in his voice, I don't quite understand his hatred. "I want to be alone…"  
  
"I'm so sorry, Severus… It shouldn't have happened."  
  
"Call me Snape. I don't care anymore. You're not sorry. This happens all the time." Another thrill of pain works through him and he shivers a little. "I'm used to it. I'm used to it all…So run back to your stupid clan of friends…"  
  
"No, please…I just want to stay. You're not feeling well. I'll look after you… I swear…" I blink back the tears.   
  
"Then keep them away from me. Keep Black and Potter away from me."  
  
I swallow dryly. I know it's impossible, he knows it too, but I'll pretend, we'll both pretend.   
  
"I will, Severus. I'll look after you from now on."  
  
He sighs, I stroke the side of a gaunt, bruised cheek and he takes my hand delicately and kisses my fingers softly.   
  
"Thank you." 


	6. Together

Disclaimer's Notice: I do not own Harry Potter.  
  
Chapter Six - Together  
  
From Snape's PoV...   
  
_____  
  
My strength is slowly returning, wave after wave, I feel better. My whole body aches, my skin feels tighter, my muscles tingle softly. I don't feel sad or half as terrible as I thought I would, yet the reason makes me feel guilty. It's Lupin. His visits have helped me.   
  
I'm out of Pomfrey's now. Apparently I had three broken ribs, a smashed elbow and a fractured nose; I can't remember much of it though. Only the scent of tea and chocolate drifting into my simple moments of consciousness. Perhaps I didn't want to remember anything else; they told me that I had some strange dreamer's deficiency, in which I crawled into my own mind out of my own free will. That was the main reason I spent two weeks at Pomfrey's; otherwise my other wounds were easy to heal. I can't stop thinking about him. His fingers drifting over my face, those pretty words he speaks to me when he thinks I'm sleeping, the very sound of his sweet voice, slight and husky as if tinted by the grief of angels. All he makes want to do is wrap my arms round him, hold the arch of his back, feel his hips and lips press against mine and lie with him forever. I wouldn't care if we died as long as we were wrapped up together, limb to limb, thought to thought, soul to soul.   
  
He doesn't love me. He can't love me. I don't even know if I love him! Just because he brings me sweets and offers me tea and strokes my hair without reviling, and- and - he doesn't look at me with an unforgiving disgust like the others, doesn't mean I love him. He still cares about them! The bastards who beat me, humiliated me daily, forced me to stay away from quidditch and laughed at me when I was crying in the toilets. I hate them. Lupin did nothing to restrain them; he's just as bad. His fingers, his hands, his lips meaning nothing! He doesn't care at all! All he wants is to be patted on the back by his bloody friends and laugh at me when he can.   
  
I try to block out the negativity, the gnarling suspicion, but I can't. I feel betrayed.  
  
"Thanks for coming..." he bends down into a seat before me. His robes are slightly creased, just like the slight frown on his face and those peachy lips. The warming scent of tea resonates from his robes and in his hands he's carrying a small, leatherbound book on defence against the dark arts.  
  
"Here's a copy of "Dangerous Beasts" I got for you...You know, to replace the last copy that James flushed down the toilet..."  
  
That had happened two years ago; I was much more advanced in that subject now; it would be of no use to me. I take it anyway and mutter, 'thanks.'  
  
I fear looking into his eyes just in case he's lying. Since I've been out of Pomfrey's, he's met me three times. Last time was in the library during quidditch practice, before that it was in the North Tower past midnight. He always has that nervous twitch about his mouth; that apprehension that simply burns off him like a raw flame. We only talk though, he sometimes squeezes my hand and I wish he'd hold me again. I like his fingers; they're elegant like a pianist's; I like every part of him.   
  
"I'm sorry I'm late...Sirius was keeping me- well, it doesn't really matter," and his voice falters. It's hard for him to talk about his friends, as if he's ashamed, as if he'd rather not be here with me...  
  
This is where the silence begins. We just sit and he sometimes fiddles nervously with his fingers, brushing one tip against the other. We shield our faces with our cloaks knowing that we should be two boys together, knowing that we're gryffindor and slytherin, social enemies and that everything about us is wrong. Remus is goodlooking while I'm a scaly serpent. I feel a thousand times more inadequate against him.  
  
"Would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me?" he says, his eyes suddenly bright with a fire.   
  
"I don't have permission from my parents to go..." It wasn't that they don't want me to go. It's just that they've been having a hard time at moment and they haven't signed my renewal form. I want to go to Hogsmeade; it's safe and warm, away from the world and I can drift away from the other boys and girls and admire the way the leaves catch the golden light from the lanterns of see watch all the people jostle about in their own little lives. At least I'm safe and I can disappear. I can't buy much since my parents don't give me much money.   
  
In the past, I've had to rely on the 'kindness' of other boys, namely Lucius. I remember my first visit in my third year. Lucius took me under his wing and fed me with icecream and chocolate. I didn't think of any ulterior motives back then but things have changed since then. I'm less naive.   
  
"Don't worry, I know a way to get out of here. You don't need anyone's permission..."  
  
"What? You mean - sneak out?"  
  
"Yea..." he said casually, his hair falling into his eyes with a small snowy shrug.   
  
I shouldn't feel so shocked. I suppose I always had some idea that despite his friends, Remus was one to follow rules and be good. What if there were other things I didn't know? He's only asking you to sneak out, it's not as if he's a murderer or something...   
  
"Oh, okay..."   
  
I feel nervous; it's not as if I've been out of bounds before. What Lucius and I do is probably worse than sneaking out, and yet I must combat that damned voice at the back of my mind whispering, 'it's wrong...' I'm being a wuss; I swallow.   
  
"We can sneak out whenever you like...When do you want to go?"  
  
"It's up to you."  
  
"Tonight. I want to go tonight...I-I won't be able to make it anytime next week." He becomes more jittery and nervous, an invisible heat creeping upon his cheeks. It's steely and warm, giving him a shy glow.   
  
"Yes, okay, tonight." We look around us as if we're spies and we have to keep ourselves hidden from their horrible stares. "Where shall I meet you?"  
  
"Do you know the humped witch on the fifth floor? Meet me there at ten, all right? Make sure you're alone."  
  
___  
  
Freedom, Remus beside me shuddering in the cool breeze. Fabric upon fabric, skin on skin, his fine, gold hair sometimes bristles against my right ear and I want to turn and kiss him till he's inside of me. Despite our robe sleeves pulled down passed our wrists, we clandestinely hold hands. Here we are two boys dressed in the usual black strolling in the Hogsmeade streets. I wonder what people think of us; perhaps they think we're best friends going out for a meal, or even lovers, not as queers or disgusting teens, but as two people in love. The idea makes my stomach flutter with excitement. I've never been on a proper date, unless the times Lucius took me out with the intention of more behind his sweet promises.   
  
Most of the shops are closed and I begin to feel sad, as if we could never rest anywhere, talk and sit. Not that I mind, at least I'm not alone. I don't have money to pay for anything anyway, what was I thinking. I'm poor, poorer than most of the other boys. All I have are possessions that aren't mine, that have been 'bestowed' upon me by Prince Malfoy, the charitable Slytherin who uses his money to gain influence over his house. I don't even want to think about Lucius anymore; he doesn't speak to me much but I can tell he has that stony distaste in his eyes. His whole presence is cold and demanding, the smooth casualness of his previous favouritism has faded a little, for I'm someone else's and he knows it. He curses himself because I can no longer be his slave. I can be treated like dirt, but I won't feel it.   
  
"Everything's closed..." I say, gently pressing Remus's warm knuckle. The very feeling of bone slipping beneath skin comforts me; he's real, this is really happening, I'm finally accepted.   
  
"Don't worry, most of the pubs are open."  
  
Another pang of that familiar apprehension; he has that confidence, that same raffish smugness that Black and Potter have, as if he's been here night after night. I've never noticed the slight swagger in his walk, the sad, melancholy of his his downturned mouth, those that eyes that never seem to look at you for a few seconds. I must be paranoid; he's looked at me a thousand times. What is it that I fear anyway? That he's hiding something? Impossible. He's too honest.   
  
_  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"I don't have any money..." a shrug, a meagre grin is all I can manage as he reaches for a small, gold pouch with some sickles inside.   
  
"That's all right. My mum and dad give me an allowance anyway."   
  
"That's nice." I try to force a smile, but he's looking at me quizzically as if he doesn't understand why I am so poor. It's not that we don't have much money, well, I suppose we do. It's just that my dad has this problem with money; I think he deals in illegal potions manufacturing, and, well, I suppose that means we lose a lot... I wonder what it's like to live in Remus's life, with his two parents. I expect he lives warmly and happily in a small cottage that isn't too big but not too small either. He has a garden, which is filled with wild roses and long grasses and inside his house, his rooms are made of pine and cosy sofas that have holes in them. I can just imagine the warm dinners, beginning with vegetable soup and ending in apple pie. For dinner, they have a stew, where they all clamber round the kitchen table and tell each other stories. Perhaps there's a crup or a kneazle that sniffs at their ankles and sleeps at the end of his bed.   
  
Then I think of Remus sleeping peacefully, his baby blue pyjamas so thin and soft against his skin. The image transforms into that first night, of his legs over my shoulders, his hips almost touching mine, his sad eyes and my eager thrusts drawing moans and cries from his innocent lips. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't be here with him. I don't deserve it. I destroyed his innocence.  
  
"I'll have a butterbeer." I don't even notice the waitress wavering by our table. She's wide-hipped, adorning a head of long auburn curls and I feel a hint of motherliness about her. With her friendly green eyes, she turns to me and says, "And what would you like dear?"  
  
I'm sixteen and she calls me 'dear'. I hate people who come up with any soft term to call me; my face constricts into a frown but it soon turns into apprehension. I don't know what I want. "I'll have the same please."  
  
"Two butterbeers coming up then."  
  
She must be able to tell we're young but she doesn't mention it. She looks at us from over her shoulder a couple of times and I can't help but ask, "do you know her?"  
  
"Oh, yes. Rosmerta, she always serves us even though she knows we're not meant to be here. Don't worry about her. She won't tell on us even though she knows Dumbledore."  
  
By 'us' he meant the marauders. He seems so at ease, so casual with everything that I feel inadequate against him. This is his time, he's in control here, yet there's a strange tingling of freedom about his lips.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Are you all right, Severus?"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
He looks up and Rosmerta's there again, this time with two butter beers clamped in her ringed fingers.   
  
"Who's this?" she asks cheerily, eyeing me up with a humourous curiousity.  
  
"Oh, this is Severus. Severus Snape."  
  
Her eyes seem to darken with something, recognition, and Remus looks uncomfortable, as if he's ashamed of me.   
  
"Nice to meet you, Snape-I mean Severus. I sometimes hear about you from the other boys. It's good to see you in person." She smiles sympathetically at me, so much so, that I could shrivel away forever. Jetting Remus a look of suspicion or maybe even warning, she clogs away, but I can still feel her ears listening.  
  
Remus laughs nervously and says reassuringly, "Oh, you know Sirius and James. They're always joking about. Sometimes your name is mentioned here and there...It's not a big problem, really, it's not."  
  
She thinks I'm an idiot. She thinks I'm weak. That sympathetic smile is all too clear now. They probably brag about how they jinxed my broom or made my potion explode at school. I want to leave.   
  
"Aren't you going to taste it?"  
  
I've had butterbeer before; all I remember is that it's sweet and thick, a beautiful golden colour that slips down your throat and makes you feel better. I take a sip. I don't even notice my eyes closing or the moan from my throat, but I must have done, for Remus is looking at me in -that- way. As if he loves me. He presses his fingers against my knee and a tingle of pleasure shoots up and down my leg. I want him. I want to swallow him; to be with him; to be inside of him. I want to lift that hand from my knee and place it between my thighs. I want to lower him from his seat opposite me and feel his hot tongue on my cock, feel him all over me. Instead, I muster a small, grateful smile and press his hand tighter.   
  
____  
  
Lips, ravenous, soft, pressing against me urgently, desperately with that sort of hunger you only envision in fantasies, those lovely pliable moans twitching from his mouth and into mine, his fingers roughly digging into my hair, pushing his whole being into me, burning. I press my hips against his, urgent for him, desperate for him. I lean him against the painted walls of Honeydukes, feeling his whole body resonate with pleasure. I want to give everything to him, to serve him, to love him. He arches his hips forward, his neck back and replies feebly, "Not outside...Not now."  
  
I release him. He's ashamed. He wants to be back in his bed, surrounded by those idle marauders. He's nothing but a boy. He doesn't want me.   
  
"Fine."  
  
"It's not that I don't want to- it's just that...I- you know... Don't like rushing into things..."  
  
And I want to hold him, to curl him in my arms and tell him it's all right. I want to tell him that I don't mind him being a boy, being apprehensive, being unsure of his own body. Yet he's still hard and it's painful to leave him like that.   
  
"Let's go back." And I know we're going back to our own different worlds.   
  
Tomorrow we'll be staring at each other coldly from the ends of classrooms, sneering and wearing the slytherin and gryffindor emblems proudly upon our chests. I want to grab his hand and run forever; till we're carried in the winds and the stars and we never have to care about who hates us, who disapproves and who wishes to hurt us. I kiss the corner of his lips shortly and we quietly enter the closed honeydukes and make our way back to Hogwarts.  
  
___ 


End file.
